Our hearts are heavy with the loss of our editor-in-chief, friend, and comrade Noel Ignatiev. Noel died on Saturday, November 9th at the age of 78. His passing is a tremendous loss to those fighting for the collective project of human liberation. ย In these times, we take solace in the memories of him people are sharing on social media. Noelโs political work, thinking and writing has been truly inspiring to so many. Hard Crackers embodies a lot of what Noel and many others spent their life fighting for–to document and participate in the strivings of ordinary people in this country (and the world) to forge another world. We are honored to have worked with him so closely over these last few years. In the upcoming weeks we will be reflecting more on his political life and contributions and we invite you all to join us.
In the meanwhile, we want to share this poem written by John Strucker, a former STO member and Noel’s long time friend.
by John Strucker
split up.
about the two Trotskyist groups
groups.
out of one cellar and into another.
Noel remains
the keeper
of the archives
of the old groups –
the hopeful fronts of fifty members,
the purified vanguard parties
of less than a dozen cadres.
There was the time we moved him
from the North Side down to Gary,
into a genuine steelworkerโs bungalow:
We made a human chain
of socialist cooperation
passing the crates
of roach-flecked books and tracts
down three flights
of gray Chicago stairs
out to the alley
and into our motley fleet
of pickup trucks and VW buses.
After a certain number of Old Styles
it seemed to make sense
to launch the cat-clawed sofa-bed
off the back porch
(heavier than โ57 DeSotos, those
bastards) rather than
mash it down the stairs and into the trash.
It landed with sickly moan
as if weโd killed a living thing,
and Hilda, Noelโs first wife,
winced at this disrespect for her old sofa
once bought so lovingly on layaway.
One comrade, Thurman,
showed up religiously for every move,
no matter how short the notice
or ugly the weather
which led us to suspect he was a cop.
Now I prefer to believe,
cop or not,
he was a true communicant –
imbibing the ritual Old Style,
pallbearing our battered possessions,
as we split and shifted our lives
from pad to pad.
And what does it say
that I can recall those moving days
more vividly
than any meeting,
conference,
or rally?
Farewell. comrade. I like to think of our lives as flat stones skipped across a still lake, with big circle splashes slowly getting smaller, until our stone sink down into the mud. But above the circles of the waves we made keep on expanding anyway, mingling with other circles, into an ever-changing sea.
I met Noel some decades ago. We became friends. I was not, and am not, a Marxist. I have read Marxist literature and gained an appreciation for the awesome, virtually scientific [graphs and all], sociological analyses offered by Marxists such as Dr. James Blount, who once wrote for the Marxist journal, Antipode, and whose cultural geography class I enrolled in at University.
It’s ONE thing to understand the mechanics of a science; a discipline. But it’s quite a different thing to UNDERSTAND PEOPLE; to understand, and to LOVE human beings, not IDEOLOGIES. Noel was NOT inebriated by, nor was he motivated by, the heady wine of ideological rhetoric or the “sport” of ideological combat [“My God’s better than YOOOOUR God!!!”]. I noticed that the first day I met him. He talked about FAMILY. He talked about his son. He LISTENED. And NOT ONCE did he even HINT a ridicule of my belief in, and practice of, my religion, as is all too often the case with most Marxists, Communists, atheists, etc.
Everything he believed in had HUMAN LOVE at the base–real shit, not BULLshit. I’m a refugee from the ’60s. So, I speak with MASSIVE authority when I tell you that much [TOO much] of “The Revolution” was populated by young, almost arrogant, ideologues who wore permanent scowls on their faces; transformed DEEP, Marxist (and other forms of) analyses into all-too popularized, weak-assed slogans and sound bites; and who, as Komarovsky, the worldly-wise character in the movie, Dr. Zhivago said, were complete turn-offs to women, because they were “high-minded…pure…the kind of man the world pretends to look up to, and in fact despises. He is the kind of man who breeds unhappiness, particularly in women. Do you understand?”
Oh, I KNOW the difference between a high-minded ideologue, and brother Noel Ignatieve. My point? HUMAN-NESS. Noel was HUMAN, with all that that SHOULD mean to us, and that WAS displayed by him. Noel? You were a cool motherfucker!! (From the hood I came from, there could BE no higher compliment). You will be sorely missed!! Your dues are paid. So rest in peace, brother!!
Noel Ignatiev has died. He was one hell of a human being. I am proud to say I knew him, was heavily influenced by him, and often times argued with him. I was a member of STO with him for a while. Sometimes he drove me crazy with what I perceived as his cantankerous arrogance, but always it seemed I was learning something new from him. While it is sad to lose him, it has been a joy to have known him. He changed things, he changed reality. What more can one person do?
Dear comrades; How sad…. I’m s Philadelphia Red Diaper nephew. My uncle Herman Kaufman was president of the red.baited out of existance Philadelphia Teachers Union. Herman died before they would have had him fired. Noel, my Central High School classmate, was suckled on the red spirit from birth. My earliest polotical awareness came from arguing with Noel in the CHS lunchroom i took the liberal side of the question “can we achieve equality of outcome?” or “equality of opportunity?” A 60 later conclusion is that equality of opportunity requires putting the structures of equality of outcome in place.
I’d been in correspondence with Noel in part about his health and in part about getting HC into ourlocal book store. Was worried from non response and now iam n tears over this news
Bob Karp
โโTreason to whiteness is loyalty to humanity.โโ
And now, I think in honor of Noel, I will keep my mouth shut here, on Facebook, and elsewhere the rest of the day. I know he would appreciate that. He advised me to do so on more than one occasion.
Very sad news. Every time we crossed paths in the last 40 years he was funny and acerbic. John’s poem is a moving tribute. One time in a meeting, Noel once gave a powerful and angry indictment of my use of the word “seems” in a position paper; either it was or was not, said Noel. That doesn’t happen much anymore.
There are people who you can’t wait to leave the room, and the some like Noel who you wished would linger for a little longer. But we all have to leave eventually.
May God bless his legacy left behind and remember to embrace every culture not just the white mans superfluous world.
Still mourning the untimely passing of my Partner and dearestvl Friend, Noel Saul Ignatiev. If only there was life after death, nothing would I change having him back in my life. I miss him so. I am empty without him.
A truly great person! An honor to have worked with him.